


Just to Be

by RoonilWazlibMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Freedom, M/M, Moving On, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Pre-Slash, Spinner's End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 09:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoonilWazlibMalfoy/pseuds/RoonilWazlibMalfoy
Summary: Both Harry and Severus died in the war. Neither Harry nor Severus died in the war.Harry's greatest hope is to find Severus. Severus doesn't dare to hope for anything.





	Just to Be

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Hogwarts Facebook group September 2019 story challenge, Prompt #2. 
> 
> The title is a reference to I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by the Proclaimers. There's no real connection; it just seemed to fit the feel of the story.

It was a little known fact that when Severus Snape died at the teeth of a giant snake, he hadn't really died. He had known the threat that Nagini posed and, as both a Potions Master and a Slytherin, he had done what needed to be done in the interest of self preservation. Passing his memories to Harry had completed his mission. No one could ask more of him than that, he thought as he took the foul tasting anti-venin, healed the worst of the damage, and apparated himself to an alley behind a muggle hospital. 

He stumbled through the doors, hand clamped tightly against his neck, and murmured "Animal attack..." to the first person he saw, before collapsing. It was a slow process. Muggles were so slow. But they were efficient. He had no idea how much later it was when he woke up in a bright, sterile room in a gown more revealing than anything he'd ever worn before. But the sun was shining through the window and it was one of the best things that Severus had ever seen. The sun shining brightly, no dementor mist obscuring the sky, no curses flying through the air. He smirked when he imagined Minerva seeing him here in this white room (best not to think of the revealing gown) with these slow but efficient muggle healers. His smirk grew wider when he imagined Lucius seeing it, but then it faded. He didn't know if Lucius lived, or Minerva either for that matter. He didn't even know if Harry lived. 

But it was no matter. He was free. His task was complete and he had only to rest and heal and move on. Nothing more was required of him and finally, finally, he didn't have to do any of those horrible things anymore. 

Slowly, Severus healed, body and mind. He was released from the hospital and he went to his home at Spinner's End. Spinner's End was not as it was when he had grown up there. It was cozier, filled to the brim with books and potions equipment and soft furniture and warm blankets. It was the home of a free man, not the home of a spy, not the home of an abused little boy. Severus was happy. He read and brewed. He cooked for himself and he took the Daily Prophet. 

He saw that many of his friends, if you could call them that, lived, and his enemies, of which there were many, were largely dead. He saw young people given heroes' funerals and he thought how tragic it was. He saw that Harry, the Boy Who Lived, lived once again, and he was grateful to know that those bright eyes still graced the world. He saw the remnants of the Dark Lord's followers punished, except, curiously, the Malfoys, who Harry himself had spoken for. He saw children he had taught recieve Orders of Merlin and he saw Hogwarts rebuilt in all its splendor. Minerva would run it and she would certainly do a better job than either of the previous two headmasters, he thought. He spoke to no one, save a few local shop keepers and his sweet, loyal owl, Achilles. He kept a foot in the wizarding world, as firmly as it could be planted while he spoke to no one. It was a quiet life and it was lovely. He thought that a man like him, a man like Severus Snape, could not hope for more.

It was a well known fact that when Harry Potter died at the hands of a mad half-blood wizard, he hadn't really died. He had known the risks, thanks to Severus Snape, and as both a hero and a Gryffindor, he had faced them and he had triumphed. It was a lesser known fact that, at the end of it all, he had gone to the Shrieking Shack to retrieve the body of a man he wished he had given a chance before it was too late. He had completed his mission and he was tired and he was sad, but he wanted to give Snape the burial he deserved, since he hadn't had a chance to live the life he deserved. 

When he found the Shack bloodied but empty, his friends assumed the worst. That filthy snake must have eaten him, they said. They didn't know, and Harry didn't tell them, the hope that he felt in his heart when he saw that empty bloody room. The sun was shining through the window and Harry hoped that somewhere Severus was seeing the sun, that somewhere Severus lived. He smirked at the random thought of Severus Snape in a muggle hospital. Severus Snape in a bright sterile room, in a gown that was less a gown and more an embarrassment. Severus Snape, who could brew a potion that could stopper death, being slowly and efficiently treated by muggles. His smirk faded as he thought of Severus alone in a sterile muggle room, not knowing who had lived and who had died, not knowing which side won the war. 

But it was no matter because he would find Severus. He was free now. His task was complete and he had only to rest and heal and move on. Nothing more was required of him and finally, finally, he didn't have to do any of those horrible things anymore. 

Harry's life moved quickly then. His body was easily healed, his mind less so, but he had his friends and his chosen family and it helped. He went home to Grimmauld Place which was dreary, the home of a dark family and, later, the home of a sad broken man. But Harry cleared it out. He cleaned and renovated until it was comfortable. There was space for his broom and space for his friends, for new clothes that fit, for takeaway curry. There was sturdy-but-comfortable furniture and the walls were filled with pictures of the people he loved and the people he had lost. It was the home of a young man, on his own for the first time, free for the first time, happy for the first time. 

He attended the trials of the Death Eaters who'd been rounded up and he attended meetings where policy changes were proposed and approved. No one wanted another war and Harry wanted to help.The wizarding world needed space to grieve and heal and rebuild as much as any individual did. In the end, Harry even spoke up for the Malfoys. They had done the right thing in the end and they had seen the error of their ways. They weren't evil or mad, just broken. Harry spoke to so many people. He was strong and brave and respected and he tried his best to make things right, not because he was tasked with it or manipulated into it; just because he wanted to. But at the end of each day, he did still wonder about Snape. He still planned to find him. He still hoped. 

It had been over a year since the war and Severus was content. His wounds had healed, although they'd left some scars. His life was pleasant. He brewed potions and sold them by owl order. He grew many of his own ingredients in the small garden behind his home. He started a collection of muggle records and fell in love with classic rock music. He experimented with both cooking and brewing and he read research books and muggle novels and the Prophet. He saw that the wizarding world was settling down, transitioning into peace. He saw that Harry was doing great things and he was glad for it. 

It was a peaceful warm day in late July when someone knocked on Severus' door. He had just been settling in to a comfortable chair with a cup of tea and the knock startled the typically graceful man into splashing tea over the rim of his cup. For most people, a knock on the door is an opportunity. A chance to see a friend or greet a neighbor or buy a vacuum cleaner or hear about our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Severus was not most people. In his 14 months of freedom, there had been exactly zero knocks on his door and he heard this knock with a sense of trepidation. He had no friends and he cared little for his neighbors. He did not need a vacuum cleaner and he had had enough of both Lords and Saviors. He waved his wand absently to vanish the spill and, in a pair of muggle jeans and a Pink Floyd tshirt, hesitantly made his way to the door. 

He opened the door and had time to hear a breathy awestruck voice whisper "Sir!" before a firm body slammed into him. Strong brown arms wrapped around his ribs, squeezing him tighter than he'd have thought possible, and a wild mess of soft black curls tickled his nose and chin as he stood there wondering exactly what was going on. Severus couldn't remember the last time he'd been hugged, but he was quite sure that one was supposed to respond to them, so he slowly wrapped his arms around the broad back before him and awkwardly patted it. He could not have possibly expected anything like this to occur and he felt that he was handling it admirably all things considered. 

After a moment, Severus gathered his wits and spoke in a slightly hoarse, snake-damaged voice. "Potter," he drawled, "what exactly are you doing?"

The strong arms gave one final squeeze, even tighter than before, then the young man took a small step back, rubbing calloused hands up and down over Severus' waist. "Sorry, sir," he murmured. "I may or may not have left some... marks." He chuckled awkwardly and Severus studied the man standing in front of him. His hands were still on Severus' ribs. His brown skin had a healthy glow and his shoulders were broader than before. His lips were quirked in a happy crooked smile and his green eyes, as bright as ever, were filled with tears. "I've been looking for you for so long, and... I thought you were dead!" he said in an abused tone. 

Severus smirked. "I've been right here, Potter. This is my home. And please call me Severus," he surprised even himself by saying this. "I'm no longer your teacher."

"Severus," Harry said it slowly, as if tasting the name and finding it pleasing. "Please call me Harry, then. I'm not your enemy any longer. Or you don't need to pretend that I am."

Severus sighed. "Do come in... Harry," he said, testing the other man's name and, shockingly, finding it as pleasing as Harry seemed to have found his. He led Harry into his living room, made a second cup of tea, and handed it to him before settling down with his own as he'd planned to before the knock. 

Harry told him how he'd searched for Severus' body immediately after the war and how hope had grown in him when there was no body to be found. They both laughed when Harry's speculations about the muggle hospital turned out to be spot on. They told each other of their lives since the war. Harry explained how Narcissa Malfoy had given him Severus' address which answered the question, in Severus' mind, of why Harry had spoken up for that family. The boy honestly could have been a Slytherin, Severus thought with amusement. 

They got to know one another on comfy chairs over several cups of tea. Both men were surprised and rather delighted to find that, without Dark Lords and old men playing with them like chess pieces, they got along wonderfully. They laughed and listened to muggle music. Severus cooked for Harry and Harry swatted him with a dish towel as he helped clean up. This day had not been anything like Severus had expected, but he found that he didn't mind at all. In fact, after today, he thought the peaceful life he'd created here would probably feel rather dull for a while. 

When evening came and it was time for Harry to leave, Severus couldn't resist saying "I wouldn't be opposed to doing this again, Harry. Any time," he hoped he didn't sound as desperate as he felt saying that, but it wouldn't matter much if he did. He was a little desperate for more time with this lovely man, this ray of freaking sunshine that had knocked its way into Severus' life.

"Severus," Harry said, in an almost pleading tone. "I would love that more than you know. This has been my best birthday ever."

"Birthday?" Severus was shaken. Harry chose to spend his birthday looking for him rather than with the plethora of Weasleys that would surely have been happy to have him? "I don't have anything for you, Harry," he murmured. 

"You've given me the best gift possible, Severus," Harry smiled. "You're alive and you're finally free. We're finally free." He leaned over and softly kissed Severus' cheek. Severus reached out almost instinctively and Harry caught his hand, bronze and ivory fingers briefly intertwined as they both moved toward the door. Once there, Harry hugged him again. This time it was less desperate, less awkward, and much warmer. When Harry stepped out the door, he touched Severus' cheek and left with a promise. "I'll see you again really soon! I can't wait to see you again."

It is a fact that there is more to living than simply not dying. When Harry found Severus, they both began to realise this and it didn't really matter if it was well known or not. All that mattered is that the two of them knew and the two of them began to really live.


End file.
